


Chest Pains

by TheDarkFlygon



Category: Caduceus | Trauma Center Series
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Dialogue, Experimental Style, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Introspection, Mild Language, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-21 00:59:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17633069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkFlygon/pseuds/TheDarkFlygon
Summary: [Second Opinion, Episode 6-3]There was something dirty about hiding something so severe from his most trusted assistant and nurse, but alas, there were priorities in life.(or: the world's most-needed surgeon and his discovery that he's been affected by what he sought to eradicate)





	Chest Pains

**Author's Note:**

> Is 2019 too late to show up to the Trauma Center party?  
> Oh well, won't be the first time I write for a dead fandom (looks at my post-Go-Galaxy-but-pre-Ares no Tenbin Inazuma Eleven fics).
> 
> Hello Trauma Center fanbase, or rather what's left of it! I've come to corrupt you again with my pseudo-literary   
> Not gonna lie, this story is very experimental. I usually don't write about canon scenes and would rather invent my own, but I feel like rewriting the infamous 6-3 and/or 6-4 episodes of Second Opinion (or what happened after it, because ATLUS didn't deliver smh) is a rite of passage in the fanbase (or what's left of it, it's 2019).   
> It's certainly not going to be my last fic for this fandom, considering the... mess this is, so stay tuned! I'm a professional fandom necromancer you guys.

There was something dirty about hiding something so severe from his most trusted assistant and nurse, but alas, there were priorities in life.

 

Being a surgeon meant to prioritize the patient above everything else. Treating GUILT, in a way, forcefully taught him this. No matter the context, the place or the difficulty of the surgery at stake, he had to go through with it anyway. He couldn’t complain: it was the path he had chosen, and countless lives counted on him to go against GUILT. It was, simply, how priorities were heading and going, and he just had to swallow his pride down and go with the flow of things. It wasn’t too hard when he wasn’t the one affected with the damn parasite, but today was… a different case. There _was_ something wrong with him, but what?

 

He trusted Angie with everything, of course. He’d trust her with his life, even. However, even if he had an iron certainty about her skills and how she could handle and stomach so much, like she had done countless times in a single year before this day, he still didn’t want to tell her about what seemed to be a bad, but rather easily understandable, case of fatigue. It wasn’t out of pride, because that’d have seemed pointless. It was more of a want not to make her worry, put it simply. He didn’t want to see her get concerned for him, that was it. Not here, not now. There was no time to worry people, and there was no need to make her worry at the wrong time. He was a surgeon, she was a nurse, and they were busy. That was it.

 

Well, technically, it was too late not to make Angie concerned for his own condition. She had asked him during the pre-op conference if he felt all right, to which he had lied through his teeth. It hadn’t convinced her, considering she had kept her frown on even after he had responded. He had never been a good liar, but God had he wished he would have been earlier when saying that. Everyone could read right through him, but he absolutely had to give her a special mention for reading even more through him than anyone else could. Aside from his mother, that was.

 

“Are you feeling all right, Derek?”

“S-sure, I’m fine…”

This was one big lie and he was fully aware of it, even felt bad for being such a dishonest guy. And yet it was only the first which drenched his throat in acid and made his chest ache. She had to have had noticed his unnatural gulp following this.

She _must_ have.

 

He thought he was clear for the length of the operation now that his lie was done and over with. He gritted his teeth through his mask, unseen from others, but very painfully conscious of how much the pression in his chest was steadily and quickly becoming something else much more sinister. It simply wasn’t anxiety anymore. There was, however, still no time to worry about it because he was a doctor. Right as he was thinking that, all the while trying to keep Tetarti at the centre of his thoughts as a way to save the patient and distract his attention away from the growing pain, relieved that his mask was hiding his clenched jaw, a question of Angie reared its ugly head.

“…Doctor.” A sterner tone resonated throughout the operation room, slightly taking him aback despite how used he was to this very voice scolding him. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. It just surprised me, is all.”

 

To be fair, it wasn’t an entire lie, more like a half-truth. He had indeed gotten surprised by the sudden new mutation of Tetarti: they had never had to deal with these colour-blind until they emitted some toxic gas to add on every other poison these could emit. These pesky bugs had helped him escape a death trap for sure there, but there came the half-lie part. As much as his surprised had been real, his focus was far from complete. The fault to trying to operate when being the host of something himself, he guessed.

The irony was complete.

 

The surgery continued as smoothly as it possibly could when Angie realized the same thing as he did: how to distinguish between the different Tetarti cells flying around the liver. At least, as long as he operated on them, he wouldn’t awaken any suspicion from anyone… Well, as long as he didn’t mistake green Tetarti for yellow Tetarti and vice-versa again. Focus, dammit, _focus_. There, all done, until the next and last wave that was. He let out a sigh, as a way to unwind some stress and let go of some suffering. It was harder to retain a pained sigh than he’d have expected before today, frankly.

 

“…Are you sure you’re feeling all right,” Angie’s voice softly came to his hears, “Derek?”

The message took time to get registered inside his brain, as if his hearing had shut down for a few seconds.

“…What?”

 

But the fact she had used his first name couldn’t mean good for him. The mask and all his focus didn’t work out in his favour, because why would they after all, and he’d have to reply again. Hah, at least, the surgery would be all over with soon. Good for them, frankly. The pain was starting to resonate against his pulse. Time to lie again.

“Yeah, of course…”

He focused on the surgery again. He’d have to check whether lying to an assistant was against the Hippocratic Oath after they were finished with this patient. For now, Mrs Lyans was the priority and so was exterminating Tetarti.

“…I’m fine…” he added in a pitiful attempt to dismiss all worries levelled against him. It wasn’t even convincing himself, it would never convince Angie. His chest ache was only getting worse from there, and his organs were getting set on fire as he finally exterminated the Tetarti strain. He silently apologized to the patient for all the missed shots he had done in the liver. These flies really were quick when his brain was foggy.

 

There was no way to fully express his relief when he heard Angie say “We have a negative Chiral reaction. Good work, Doctor”.

 

His hands were shaking as he closed the patient up. Another quiet apology, another wish to be forgiven for having missed something, somewhere. As a surgeon, as the one doctor everyone counted on to save the world from GUILT and its suffering, he had to be close to perfect and… it wasn’t the case, today, and it’d never be again if…

_If he died._

 

Right after closing Mrs Lyans and seeing her get wheeled out of the room, the pain flared, blurring his vision under a thick layer of tears. A panicked “what the” shuddered under his breath as he clutched his chest, desperate to determine what the hell was wrong with him right this moment. All he knew was that it was bad, very bad, very painful, potentially lethal and God it just hurt like a bitch! Coughing ensued, as if his body was trying to eject something, but all it did was drying his throat even more and amplifying the pain. Goddammit.

“What’s wrong with—” he attempted to say, but he was stopped by another coughing fit. His legs were about to buckle up under his weight and the sheer power of the pain.

‘Dr. Stiles…” Angie’s voice first trailed off as she looked towards him, right before her voice started panicking along with her. “Is there something wrong with the patient?!”

 

All she could see was his back, thank God, but he couldn’t keep it to himself anymore, could he? That was potentially life-threating and he knew it.

“No… This is…”

Another fit cut him off. By now, the patient had been wheeled outside the room and he was left being the centre of unwanted attention. Well, it’d be unwanted if he wasn’t sure this was all GUILT’s doing, so close to his heart.

So that was what it felt like, to have one’s heart lacerated by Kyriaki?

“Ugh…”

 

His eyes rolled inside his skull as he let go of a small grunt, knees giving in, OR turning to black. All he felt before going fully unconscious were arms wrapped around him, preventing his body from hitting the ground, and a distant cry from a very familiar voice he had barely heard being so torn apart.

_Derek! What ha…_

**Author's Note:**

> I've been here for 2 weeks and I already know Derek's going to be my newest victim to whump.  
> Woops.


End file.
